


Gonna Need a Storm Warning

by HuntingHardyGirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fluff, SO MUCH FLUFF, just Dean imagining how lucky he is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-07
Updated: 2016-05-07
Packaged: 2018-06-06 21:12:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6770068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HuntingHardyGirl/pseuds/HuntingHardyGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"She's a beautiful mess, the kind you love to love, but what happens next?</p><p>I gotta feelin' when the sun comes up I'm gonna wish I had a storm warning. I'm gonna wish I had a sign. I'm gonna wish I had a little head's up, little leeway, little more time. Some kind of radar system locked in on love! </p><p>I gotta feeling by the time the night finds the mornin, I'm gonna wish I had a storm warning!"</p><p>-- Hunter Hayes</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gonna Need a Storm Warning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Minxchester (ComeAlongPond14)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ComeAlongPond14/gifts).



If you had told Dean Winchester that he was going to fall in love with a witch, he probably would have laughed his ass off and ask you how many drinks you had. Monsters, he could sort of understand. Witches? Whole 'nother story! How could someone willingly sell their soul for dark magic, cause horrible harm towards innocent people and claim that it was for their own "greater good"?

But Taylor Borelli was something new. A "white" witch, she called herself, talking about being granted magic by the goddess Hestia as she lectured the hunter about safety precautions and pressing a gloopy slime over his almost torn open arm, watching carefully as the skin started healing under the effects of the potion. Her magic was for real good, healing, safety. And while magic still made the hunter wary, he couldn't help but feel drawn towards this somewhat quirky young woman, dark curls tumbling over her shoulders, intense dark brown eyes sparking with mischief, the harmless kind. She made no effort to harm him. Instead, she all but insisted he rest a few days at her little cottage, fixing up good food, healing his various wounds. By the time Dean had headed off again, he found he actually missed her company.

So when they met again a few months later, Dean found excuses to have her stay. "There's this amazing diner in Alabama, best cheeseburger I've ever had, you have to try it." "Hey check it out, there's gonna be an AC/DC cover band playing tomorrow night, you wanna go?" "So I found this hunt, thought you might wanna help out." Soon, however, the excuses ran out, and Dean wasn't sure what else to do but ask her to travel with him, be another hunting partner, worried that she might refuse. Her magic was mostly for healing and protection, but it was strong and she could hold her own against monsters. And the hunter was surprised when she simply smiled and asked him where they were headed to next.

Getting to know the witch was like a whirlwind. She either had boundless energy or barely any at all. She was either hungry all the time or picky for one specific thing, no exceptions. She could be laughing and cracking jokes one minute and then decapitating a vampire with a viciousness that even made Dean alarmed the next. And yet, ever since Sam left to try and go back to Stanford, Taylor had become a breath of fresh air for Dean, a good friend that helped pass the time, someone he could have debates with on shows they watched, someone he could sing with to the radio without worry that she wouldn't know any of the songs he enjoyed, (it really turned out to be the other way around, as her love for music extended past just classic rock), someone he could get pie with and know he wasn't going to get lectured on eating healthier, because her diet was just as bad as his way.

Somehow, someway, along their paths, Dean fell for her. And damn, he fell hard. He loved how she got lost in a book, a strand of hair falling into her face. He loved how she laughed, hysterical and loud, how her eyes scrunched up in the corners, and if he really got her going she'd end up getting the hiccups. He loved how she sang so passionately, like it was something a part of her, like music ran through her veins. He loved how gentle she was when patching him up with her spells and potions, getting dreamcatchers to help him sleep better.

And he loved how random she was, like the time he woke up during a downpour and found her dancing in the rain, like it was something she did all the time. He loved how she would sometimes tap a rhythm on the side of the passenger door of the Impala, lost in thought, eyes faraway. He loved how self righteous she got when she found someone being picked on by assholes, how she was ready to fight at the drop of a hat. He loved her compassion, her rage, her sorrow, her happiness. 

And Taylor, in turn, fell in love with a broken hunter who had been to Hell. She loved the man with the intense but sad green eyes, loved counting the freckles on his face. She loved being able to hug him, how tightly his arms wrapped around her. She loved how protective he became of her, always ready to chase off a random asshole or a pack of wolves if they so much as sneezed threateningly in her direction. She loved his little jokes and puns, loved how satisfied and smug he was when he'd make a funny reference and she would understand it. She loved the touch of his hands against her, cradling her, handling her like she was something precious.

In a weird turn of events, the hunter fell in love with the witch, a spitfire in her own right, and the witch fell in love with the hunter, a man who tried so hard, who never gave up. The Righteous Man and the White Witch; an odd but somehow endearing couple. They were far from perfect. They argued and fought tooth and nail sometimes when their tempers flared, but the make up sex was something to almost die for. They fit together, however way that happened.

As the sun slowly rose outside, the purple mountains almost shining in the reflection, Dean smiled, holding Taylor closer to him on the Impala, his leather jacket wrapped around her shoulders as they watched the sky explode in orange and pink hues. For the moment, there were no hunts, no monsters, no worries of angels and demons. It was just the two of them; peaceful, content. A promise of a new day, a hope that whatever they had lasted forever.

Maybe it would.


End file.
